


Just Wanna Be Yours

by serpentqueenz



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, So much angst, Unrequited Love, man this isn't a love story, think of it as a pain story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-07-27 11:34:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16218176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serpentqueenz/pseuds/serpentqueenz
Summary: They’re free, but they’re not.  They’re two parts to the same fucked up soul but they’re still two separate parts.  As they grow closer, they feel even farther apart.  How much longer do Jughead and Veronica have to wait for freedom?_________Jughead’s head rolls back and his beanie drops on the floor behind him on the peeling lino, scuffed boots resting on the dining table as he burns holes in her body with his eyes, he stubs out smoky menthol in the ashtray as he puts his hands behind his head, bathing in her presence with a smile that’s all kinds of cocky with a hint of desperation for her, she knows it, “Princess,” he murmurs through the smoke. “You were all I could think about all day.”Veronica lets the words seep into her bloodstream as she prepares chamomile and tries to get her mind to ease.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aubrey of course. My muse.](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Aubrey+of+course.+My+muse.).



> A Jeronica fic not for the faint of heart. Everything but a love story.

_**Chapter One** _

_Princess_

_Now_

* * *

The words ghost over Veronica’s skin like a curse. They stop her from moving, she’s already foreign in the room. Coming here was a sick joke that Veronica couldn’t get out of.   _“I love you, Ronnie,”_ repeats in her mind, she knows it’s haunting her nonstop. God, she knows he loves her. He loves her so much that he’s often on literal hands and knees, he’s kind smiles in the crook of her neck. **  
**

He reminds her, over and over, just how much he loves her.

Veronica lies in the bedroom that hasn’t changed in the last three years. Three years, she thinks, of small town love. But she tries a little harder, stronger, she tries. She knows she has to. There’s something so good in Archie Andrews and she can’t ignore exactly what he gives her.

Understanding, love, good.  _Good_ , echoes in her mind.  _He’s so good. He’s good for me._  Archie is the kind of good that Veronica had promised herself she needed. But it didn’t work out that way and Chicago couldn’t take him away fast enough. She briefly wonders about what Chicago would feel like if she didn’t lie to his face and she left with him. Then, just as quickly, she doesn’t wonder anything at all.

She’s curled up on the single bed that’s never moved from this spot with his Letterman resting at the foot of the bed and she stares at the guitar hanging on the wall. “I really love you, Ronnie,” he says again. She almost sniggers at the words. She’s sick and tired of whirlwind love and kind words. As if he was trying to prove a point but it was falling on deaf ears. His promise to her. He rolls off the bed and walks over to his drawer, sipping at a can of Sprite that she doesn’t know exactly how long it had been sitting there for. It showed her a level of youth that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Oldness envelops her. She’s aged since coming to Riverdale.

Her phone vibrates in her hand and Veronica looks to Archie to see just how far away he was from her with his frame sitting in a gaming chair and his neck hunched over his desk. She rolls onto her side, pulling the blanket up to her chin, keeping a message all to herself.

  * **_How long until I can see you, baby? It’s starting to kill me._**



She reads it ten times, she can feel just how much Jughead was dying in the message about thirty times over. Her heart races so much, she can feel it wedged in between ribs. The same ribs that Jughead shoves his whole heart into. She replies with telling him to be patient which was a sick kind of ironic but she couldn’t swallow down because she was counting down the minutes until she could leave.

Archie kisses her tenderly as she goes to walk away, smiles and soft touches on her skin. “See you tomorrow?” he asks. “Then we can talk more about Chicago, right?”

She doesn’t know the answer, she ignores the lies forming on her lips. If she could sway her heart for just one moment, she would beg for it to hang on to the kind boy in front of her.

But Veronica knows, deep down in the pit of it, that no matter how hard she tries the dark that consumes her is all wrapped up in the boy that wasn’t Archie.

The only truth she could feel right now was freedom. Because that’s exactly what Jughead had been promising her for years.

* * *

He’s high from a second blunt in a row when his eyes drag on her.

It was a ritual, Jughead had always said. Meeting here, finally relaxing from the tension that was life when they weren’t together. Jughead wears his tension so apparent, Veronica could kill him for making his discomfort so obvious when he’s only eyes and no hands on her. She feels it too, hiding her feelings so deep in her bones from everyone around them. Only exposed when it was them two in the trailer that he hates but she loves.

Jughead’s head rolls back and his beanie drops on the floor behind him on the peeling lino, scuffed boots resting on the dining table as he burns holes in her body with his eyes, he stubs out smoky menthol in the ashtray as he puts his hands behind his head, bathing in her presence with a smile that’s all kinds of cocky with a hint of desperation for her, she knows it, “Princess,” he murmurs through the smoke. “You were all I could think about all day.”

Veronica lets the words seep into her bloodstream as she prepares chamomile and tries to get her mind to ease.

She brushes past him, her hand lingering on the skin of his neck, nails scratching at his skin as she leans against him as he sits in front of her, all laid bare and all kinds of agonizing exposed. She lets wet hair out of a damp towel that she chucks into the corner of the trailer, slumping against the closet with the broken door that hangs on weak hinges. Jughead rests his head on on Veronica’s stomach, breathing in sync with her. “A rough day Southside?” she asks him, pushing his head a little further down so it was level with the cotton start of her pajama shorts.  Jughead fingers the band of her shorts, letting his fingertips smooth a long her skin.  _What’s keeping him so silent?_  She wonders.  _Something’s going wrong,_ she knows.

Veronica knows Jughead better than she knows herself and he’s of a different make up to anyone else she knows. His rough fingers on inside of her thighs speak so loudly, she can’t concentrate, the further he buries his face into her body, the more she knows he’s trying to escape. “Nothing as rough as being away from you, Princess,” he says, voice cracking.

Veronica loses her fingers in his hair, letting him pray into her. “Tell me how much you love me,” she wishes down on him.

There’s nothing but the acute sound of his heart racing in the air, “Tell me how much  _you_  torture me,” he rebuts with a smile that makes Veronica want to stay in this trailer forever.

“You’re lying to me,” she murmurs against his forehead. “If you loved me, you’d tell me what’s wrong.”  _I’m what’s wrong_ , she knows. _I’m making this_.

She feels his teeth on her bare skin and the dry skin of his fingers on her waist. “Betty misses you.”

Betty’s name rings in Veronica’s ears. Betty used to be the only thing that made sense. The calm and steady. Her best friend. She loves her friend with all of her fucked up heart and misses her with a passion that won’t escape her chest.

But Veronica never did have that  _Riverdale Pep!_  And never did feel the calling of Sweetwater River. The kindness that runs through the town doesn’t alter the feeling of Manhattan in her veins. She never really  _clicked_.

“Tell her I’ll see her soon,” she says.

Jughead’s smug smile oozes malice while he clings on to her ass, keeping her near him. “She wants to see you, she hates me,” he tells her, “She says I’ve changed. Maybe she just never knew me.”

“Do you miss her?”

He pauses, she can feel him thinking on his answers. “I miss what we had until we were two separate people.”

She could never think of anything to say when they bought up Betty. On one hand, Betty was her best friend and someone she could share anything with.

Until she couldn’t anymore.

Jughead was so many layers that called to Veronica for so long, she sometimes wonder if it was his very being that bought her to Riverdale. “I get it,” she murmurs.

He kisses at her stomach, “I don’t think you do, Love,” he speaks on her. “You and I have always been the same person. You get that, right?”

She understood it more than she cared to admit.  _Who the hell wants to be two parts of the same person?_  She wonders. It was all kinds of messed up but his bones were hers and that was something she would never be able to escape. “I do.”

Jughead smirks as he looks up to Veronica’s eyes. “I’m busting at the fucking fists until we can be together, do you know how much you torture me?”

She closes her eyes, wishing herself away for just a moment. “Tell me how much you love me,” she repeats.

He taps her on the hip, drumming against her. “I love you so much,” he pleads. “That I’m waiting for you and I don’t even care how long it takes.”

Veronica knows what he’s saying. They’re free, but they’re not. They’re two parts to the same fucked up soul but they’re still two separate parts.

They love each other, but they’re not quite connected.

They’re disjointed pieces of the same fucked up soul.

They’re disjointed.

They’re fucked up.

“Tell me how much you love me,” she demands, pulling his head closer against her.

“So much, I can’t even breathe without you.”

She’s wears his love like a fucking crown on her head.

* * *

When she saw Betty, she was full of questions and thoughts about just how deep Jughead was in Southside. But Veronica didn’t have the heart to tell Betty that Jughead was Southside and he wasn’t coming back.  

Days all blended into one when Veronica worked back-to-back shifts at Pop’s with her father’s disapproval, and her mom’s self absorption seems to intensify now that Veronica’s hit nineteen and she’s never home. Louboutins seem out of place in the trailer that holds no love for Jughead. No cares.

It’s an empty shell of a place, only warming up now that Summer was coming and Jughead is a warm tongue everywhere on her body.

Jughead leans against the window next to the booth he sits at with Fangs and Sweet Pea, bloodied split in his lip, smirk hanging on the very same mouth that Veronica can almost taste in the air around her. He shrugs denim off his shoulders that he throws across at Fangs and Sweet Pea looks from Veronica after giving her a wink then looks over to Jughead who flickers his eyes back to her. He’s burning her with his gaze.

She’s almost ready to beg him to leave with her.

She makes it over to the booth but in the booth behind them, Mika the newest Serpent Queen sits alone, arms folded and a scowl directed in the boys direction. Veronica pulls out a pen from her hair and a notepad. “Princess,” Jughead says, licking swollen lips and tapping his fingers on the table.

“Jughead,” she replies curtly, crossing her legs a little tighter, steadying the heart in her chest.

Sweet Pea rolls his eyes and chucks a twenty dollar bill in Veronica’s direction. “Two chocolate shakes for Fangs and I and get whatever the usual is for your lover boy,” he says quickly, shooting Jughead a glare. “I’m sure you know his usual by now…”

Jughead’s jaw tenses and Veronica rolls her tongue over her teeth, holding back a series of sharp words she could choose from. “I’m on it.”

“Ignore him, V,” Fangs says, tucking the twenty dollar into Veronica’s pocket. “He’s already in the bad books with Mika.”

Veronica smiles sweetly at Fangs and leans over to kiss him on the cheek, making sure Jughead’s eyes are on her. “Can’t imagine why,” she says, dripping sarcasm. Fangs rubs the spot where Veronica kissed him. 

Veronica turns to walk away, keeping Jughead’s eyes on her legs. Thinking of ways she can make him pay tonight in the mismatched trailer that she’s starting to call home.

The boys continue to talk and with every movement, she can feel Jughead’s eyes on her but she goes to the booth behind them and slips into the seat across from the girl with the dark hair and light eyes. Mika’s smile loosens a little when Veronica blocks the Serpents from her view and she leans in close to Veronica. “Let me ask you something.”

Veronica likes Mika. it was somewhere between her abruptness and her ability to kill anyone that comes in her path that makes Mika Veronica’s kind of person. “Go for it,” Veronica answers.

Mika’s eyes squint a little as she looks at Veronica with suspicion. “You always try to do the right thing, don’t you?”

The words smack Veronica so hard, she can feel them in the back of her head. She doesn’t know exactly what Mika means, but at the same time, she couldn’t deny it. Riverdale was meant to change her. She wanted to be everything that he parents weren’t. She was scared of being the person who was always out for herself.  _Lies, deceit, pain, torture_ , she knows. “I guess so,” Veronica says.

Mika smiles as she sips on her shake. “How about for once, you just do you?”

Veronica’s eyes drift to the side where she can see Jughead’s reflection in the window.

Why was it that now, she was free but all she can think of was every kind of wrong they were together.

* * *

She wonders exactly why everything makes her feel guilty. Jughead has a love for Archie that is only rivalled by her own love for Betty, but they’re not in High School anymore but the guilt still seeps through.

Jughead is a constant prayer against her. “Love, at one point, we have to make ourselves happy.”

“I’m happy,” she says, and for once, it’s not a lie. The trailer that’s almost empty and holds the memories in the particle boards of Jughead and the disconnected family he comes from is more of a home to her than any of the upmarket apartments she was brought up in. The double bed that doesn’t have a duvet cover is more comforting when Jughead is in her arms but it doesn’t stop the feeling that maybe she doesn’t deserve to be happy.  _You’re not a bad person, you’ve just done bad things_ , she remembers. It’s the thing she constantly reminds Jughead. But maybe one of the bad things in his life is her.

“You’re lying,” he reminds her.

She doesn’t have the energy to deny it.

“If we leave, it’s like we’re running away.”

“Well, maybe we are?” he shrugs in the blanket.

“I don’t want to run away.”

Jughead closes his eyes. “Princess, we’re so far Southside, we don’t really have a choice,” he promises her.  _He’s always pretty promises out of ugly truth_ , she knows. “Southside follows me, you’re so tightly shackled, V, let’s get out of here.”

She listens to his pretty promises, they keep her sated and they make her believe that sometimes, she deserves to be happy. “I can’t take a Jones out of Southside,” she laughs just as fake as she thinks the promises are.

Jughead’s groan echoes on her. “Veronica Lodge, you could take me anywhere and I would be happy.”

She falls asleep in Jughead’s flannel, ignoring the messages from her mom.

* * *

For the most part, no one spoke a word.

Jughead’s Southside has a loyalty to him that shakes every moral she claims to have in the best way.  _Ask no questions, you’ll get no lies_ , she thinks. That was something his closest friends on the Southside promise him. They keep hidden love just that -  _hidden_. There’s no tears spilled for Betty.  _I spill enough_ , she knows.

Jughead was often words caught in the back of his throat and Veronica was whispered kisses against his cheek when she thought no one was looking. But the people surrounding them were more intuitive they Veronica wanted to acknowledge.

Sometimes the lies were easier than truths.

She’s a baggy t-shirt that she found in Jughead’s drawers that just seemed to have a lot more of her clothing in than his. Fangs’ smirk speaks louder than he does. “I know that shirt.”

Jughead is a cocky boot on the table outside the trailer, cigarette flicking ash on the ground around him as Veronica steps out. He knows exactly what Fangs knows. The t-shirt was his and it didn’t matter that just that morning, she had promised him she wouldn’t be  _that_  girl. But it tucks into her acid wash Levi’s perfectly and maybe fashion was one of those things she just wasn’t really ready to give up. She makes her way over to the table and stands in between Mika and Sweet Pea, stealing a Marlboro menthol from Jughead’s hands and placing it between her teeth. Jughead chucks her the lighter. “Came out to join us, Princess?”

She hides a blush by looking down to the ground, she feels Mika jab at her thigh with her elbow as she exhales from a blunt that she was sharing with Sweet Pea. “Did you stay the night?” Mika asks.

Veronica can’t count how many nights she’s stayed here and lately, she feels she lives here. She looks over to Jughead who blows out smoke through his nose. “You ask too many questions,” Veronica says with a smug smile.

Sweet Pea sniggers. “Yeah, show her the same treatment and she’ll knock your ass down - ouch!” he says, dodging a second punch from Mika.

Mika’s beautiful when she’s happy, high and relaxed. Veronica notices it as she lays back in the outdoor chairs, hand brushing on Sweet Pea’s that he’s obviously aware of, even if he would never admit to soft, tender touches. She takes the seat between Jughead and Mika while Jughead chats to Fangs, lost in a cloud of menthols and coffee steam. “He’s not even the same person when you’re not around.”

Veronica’s eyes don’t move from Mika as she hurries for words to say. She wants to deny it, it’s automated and robotic. But her bones strip down and her guard lets loose and then feeling of guilt slips away a little. “I don’t know what you mean,” she lies through her teeth.

Mika rolls her eyes when she lights a cigarette from the same, stolen packet from Jughead. “You guys might have your little game where you think it’s cute to lie to each other about how you feel, but I can see right through it,” Mika says, waving her hand between them. “Call it a bitch’s intuition.”

Veronica hides a smile and shakes her head, looking over to Jughead and Fangs, feeling at ease with their friends around them. It had been a long time since Veronica felt at ease around someone other than Jughead. “We just don’t want a big deal about anything,” she mutters to Mika in a hush.

Mika’s eyes turn serious as she leans into Veronica, blowing smoke, getting close. “Who gives a shit about Riverdale. Who gives a shit about what people think about you. Who gives a shit about your relationship. Just do whatever you want, when you want it. Take what you need.”

Sweet Pea’s head darts to look at Veronica and back to Mika. “What are you guys talking about?”

Mika slinks down further in her chair and Veronica watches Jughead’s hands move in the air, describing something in great detail, face screwed up in frustration before breaking into a laugh with Fangs.

 _Just go for it_ , she repeats,  _take what I need. Fuck Riverdale, fuck everything._

She knows, deep down, all she needs is Jughead.

* * *

 

She lays in her bed with him on the other end of the phone. “Princess,” he sighs. “Come over.”

Veronica can’t. She had promised her mom that they’d wake up to fresh fruit and mimosas as if she wasn’t used to a black coffee and a cigarette instead. “I can’t.”

He laughs deeply on the other end, making it ring in her ear. “You’re lying.”

She wishes she was. She wishes that she was lying and just trying to toy with him. Her thighs ache when they’re not tangled in Jughead’s long legs with his hair in her face. “Where have you been?” she asks him softly.

“Dying for you.”

She smiles with traces of malice. “Where have you really been?”

He pauses. “With Betty.”

Betty was soft chiffon framed windows and white on white bedding, clashing with his very being. “Are you okay?”

He sniggers in a way that shatters her bones. “She hates me,” he says with a laugh that didn’t have the slightest bit of humor to it. “She wants to try California, see how the sun treats her. She wants me to go.”

Veronica swallows loudly. She could almost see his face as she stares blankly at the ceiling. Racing heart wanting to know the answer, mind telling her she doesn’t want to have to hear the truth in case it hurts.  _What if he wants to go?_ She asks herself.  _What if he needs more than this?_  “What are you going to do?” she forces. “This is the kind of thing you’ve been waiting for…”

“What do you mean?” he snaps a little harshly.

Veronica rolls her eyes, never backing down. “This is what you say you need, isn’t it?” she spits back. “A new life, a new start, some good… that’s what Betty and California will offer you.”

She can sense the tightening in his jaw over the phone. The gritting of his teeth. “Veronica,” he hushes. “If I left with Betty, I’d be leaving my entire soul here with you,” he promises. “Good isn’t what I need. You and the bad is what I need.”

“Jug…” she starts but he hushes her again.

“And if being with you means I’m a little lost and a little too far gone, then so be it. Love is all I need, Love.”

She smiles to herself in a way that makes her feel sick. She’s so fucked up, it almost hurts.  _I love him so much, it almost hurts_. “Let’s go, Jughead,” she begs. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

“Soon,” he promises. “But right now, do me a favor, okay?”

“Sure,” she says sleepily.

“Tell me on the phone just how much you need me.”

She bites her lips as she moves her hand down silk. “I need you so much right now,” she says with her hand between her thigh and the heavy sound of Jughead’s breathing through the phone.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead kisses at the bend of her arms that are keeping him too-safe-steady grounded. Praying on his minds knees that they could stay like this forever. Forever, that’s all they both craved. To escape. To finally be free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How fucked up is too fucked up for these two? We'll see where they take us.

_**Chapter Two** _

_Torture_

_Now_

* * *

 

Jughead sits in shackle-releasing-bliss when she’s in his zone.

It’s a far-too-many-cracked ribs kind of feeling when Veronica isn’t around. Too-many-breaths-lost and heart-shattering kind of pain. Southside is the pits of hell when she wasn’t on his frequency and in his zone. 

Jughead shoves the bitch that hides in his mind to the side when it reminds him of all the bad things in his world when Veronica was home with him.  _That’s what she is_ , he thinks,  _home, home, home._

Veronica brings a warmth to his thoughts when she stands in his all-worn-out trailer. The one the seeps pain from the walls and fucked-up-forgetful memories. The ones that carry his mother in the fucked up walls and still holds the trace of his dad’s favorite bourbon in the sheets. The way Jellybean cowered with him in the corner while his mom shouted about money. All the memories are fucked-up-forgetful when Veronica sighs when  _he_  sighs and laughs when he speaks.  _Pretty-ringing-words,_  he knows.  _She’s my pretty-little-everything._

She rings so pretty when she says; “Jughead, let’s get out of here.”

His bitch rings so loudly when it reminds him;  _she wouldn’t follow you anywhere._

That bitch that clings on with fucked-up-painful talons in his mind is so noisy when Veronica promises him forever. Because why would she even stay with him forever when he has nothing to offer her? Daddy sits in a picture-kinda-perfect-mansion that offers Veronica a type of forever that Jughead, even in his wildest dreams, couldn’t give her.  _There’s only so much love can pay for,_ he remembers.  _And sometimes love isn’t enough._

Veronica stands in front of him with legs that his fingers can’t dig into enough. His lips are licked-damp when they stick to her skin. He’s a desperate-tightened-chest as he licks too-dry lips, he can taste her very taste in the air around him when he digs nails into her thighs so tightly, she gasps against him. He may feel that he’s on a high so acute, that there wasn’t anything that he could take in his fucked up haze that would compare to the high Veronica gives him with her just  _being_  here. But his eyes open as her chest rests against him and his reality makes it apparent that he’s in the screwed up trailer with the girl who was worth more than life itself. Flickering lights from a broken bulb, peeling paper on the walls and Veronica Lodge leaning against him as he sits on a broken table chair.  _Ritual_ , he plays in his mind. Everything comes down to their ritual. 

Veronica holds him close, bringing him into her.  _Drowning, suffocating, love, love, love_ , he repeats. “Where do you want to go, Princess,” he hums against her.  _Nowhere with you,_  the bitch repeats.

She’s running nails through his hair again, reminding him that sometimes, her touch was more than love. It was promises of a world that she could only give him. It was hidden kisses at the back of the Whyte Wyrm with every guard up, it was two hearts.  _It’s beating with our whole hearts,_  he convinces. Veronica’s hair is a dark curtain surrounding him. “Tell me how much you love me,” she begs him.

Jughead kisses at the bend of her arms that are keeping him too-safe-steady grounded. Praying on his minds knees that they could stay like this forever. “I love you so much, Princess,” he prays, “That wherever you want to go, I’ll take you.”

Veronica smiles at his truths, lips turned up in a way that makes his blood feel thick. Her lips are sugary-heart-stopping full when they’re down on his jawline. Her smile makes him smile. “Let’s move, run away, let’s go to New York and start a new life.”

Her words are chopped up, quick lines inhaled sharply and settling in his bloodstream by Jughead and he lets them soak into his being, his head rolls, his eyes closed. He lets them hit him. The bitch in the back of his mind reminds him that this is too good to be true. His heart lets Veronica rule him.  _Love, love, love_ , he repeats. Jughead smiles with his eyes closed with Veronica on his skin and his tongue sitting on the band of her jeans. “Tell me how much you torture me, Veronica.”

Her heart races as it sits against his right temple. “Fuck this, Jughead,” she says with straight-spine-confidence. “No torture, love.”

Jughead’s soul is already in New York City.

He kisses Veronica’s skin on her stomach twenty times in a row, running his hands up and down her thighs so many times he can’t count.

She steps away and in that moment, the bitch comes back.  _You’ll never make it in New York,_  it echoes.

He rolls a blunt, inhales sharply. Sativa takes over,  _you deserve to stop running away,_  she tells him in a high.

Veronica’s soft smile from across the room tells him she loves him. “What?” she murmurs.

His jaw relaxes, palms free of tension. Mind running to New York. “I just really fucking love you, Veronica.”

* * *

 

When Archie left, Jughead felt he lost a little of himself too. It was loyalty-laced-friendship that Jughead hates himself about.  _Loyalty_ , the bitch reminds him.  _Something you never had._  There were tears that Veronica lost over Archie that he couldn’t seem to sew back together. She was tears hanging on Mika’s shoulder, Jughead knew that Veronica had found something in Mika. A friendship that offered her something other than the sweetness of Betty. Jughead misses the simple-happy-youth friendship he had with Archie. But that was something he hadn’t seen in years.

Betty was promises of coming home. Betty wasn’t a liar. But he could tell she was lying to him and for once, he wasn’t going to fight it.

Apparently, she left on the early bus to catch her midday flight. Jughead doesn’t know. He stayed indoors with Sweet Pea by his side and sativa convincing him that the weight will be lifted as soon as she left. And it did. Veronica cried for her best friend as well but Jughead’s open-cracked-heart finally started beating in rhythm for the first time in years.

“What will you do now?” Fangs asks, tossing a football in the air.

 _I’m limitless_ , he believes. He looks to Fangs and to Sweet Pea. For once, Sweet Pea wasn’t shoving truths down Jughead’s throat. Sweet Pea knew more than anyone about the way Jughead and Veronica beat as one. “I think I need to get out of here,” he tells his brothers in arms.

Sweet Pea smiles with his mouth shut when he sits in the mismatched chairs of the trailer. “Leave Southside?” he chuckles. “You and the raven haired Princess, huh? That’s what you call her, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Jughead says freely with no shackles keeping him down.

Fangs raises an eyebrow, lips turning up in a smirk. “You wouldn’t leave us, would you?”

Jughead rubs his face, looking through the gaps of his fingers at Fangs. “Fangs, I can’t stay here forever. V and I finally have something that we can make. NYC,” he says strongly. “Maybe it’s time for me to be a part of her world, now that we’re not stuck here.”

Sweet Pea sniggers. “You? In New York? I’ve heard it all now.”

The bitch in the back of his mind reminds him that maybe Sweet Pea is right.  _I need to have a go at this_ , he reminds himself. _She wants us to go_.

The trailer door with the too-loose-hinges swings open and now-easy-smiles walks through and Mika follows behind her. “What’s going on,” Veronica ghosts with her lips on Jughead’s temple. “Bit of a boy scout meeting?”

Mika giggles as she stands behind Sweet Pea and folded arms relax when Mika’s hand is on his shoulder, Jughead knows. “What were you guys talking about?”

“Can’t miss a beat, can you, Mimi?” Sweet Pea teases.

“Never.”

Jughead sighs into Veronica’s touch. “We’re talking me and you, Love,” he says out loud, ignoring the surprise from his friends at his opening up. “NYC.”

Fangs groans. “Can you just call it New York?”

“New York then,” Jughead corrects.

Veronica’s smile lifts him higher than the high the blunt gave him. Her nails on his skin keeps part of him with her always.  _Love is all mine_ , he reminds himself.  _Love will be all mine_ , he dreams, him and her always. Saturating. Drowning. Always. “Jug…” she says gently.

Mika jumps in, all quick mouthed like Sweet Pea. “Ugh,” she moans. “Just do it, get the fuck out of here.”

Jughead waits on Veronica’s words that don’t come. “Let’s get the fuck out.”

Veronica is a prayer over him. “Let’s do it.”

That was all he needs to hear.

* * *

 

Sweet Pea is straight backed with a blunt hanging out of his mouth and a smirk that is only rivalled by his girl who stands next to him, hands folded over her chest and all-too-much confidence running out of the both of them. “Toni is going to hate the two of you if you both just fuck off in the middle of the night.”

Veronica’s shoulders straighten and Jughead can already feel the fight coming off of her even without her saying anything. Sharp-whip words are forming on the tip of her tongue and he can already hear them in the air right now. He leans back on the wall of the trailer, letting his love take over. He was never one for battles, and not if they involved her. “Firstly, it’s not the middle of the night, Sweet Pea,” she says, taking a step forward, not even reaching Sweet Pea’s shoulders.

Sweet Pea’s displeasure in circumstances rears as he flicks dark eyes from Veronica to Mika and back to Jughead. In that moment, Jughead’s thoughts became a little static. He was going to miss Sweet Pea and Fangs, Toni and Southside. All of them. He would miss them, but he loves Princess more than the feeling of the gang. He loves her so much, he would give up his entire world. “What are we gonna do without you?” Sweet Pea argues.

His girl, Mika, the only thing that Jughead had ever seen settle the person with a temper so wild, the whole of Greendale would be able to feel it, places a steadying hand on Sweet Pea’s shoulder and gives him a smile that made Sweet Pea so weak, Veronica almost smirked at him. “If they want to go, let them go!” she almost growls. “You’re a big boy, you can’t have Jughead babysitting you forever, you know.”

Sweet Pea wants to argue, of course he does, Jughead thinks to himself, he always does. But Sweet Pea backs down in the presence of Mika. “Fine, we’ll come with you to move, I’m not happy about it, but I’ll do it.”

Veronica smiles gently, reminding Jughead exactly why he was doing this. “It’s okay, guys,” she assures them. “We don’t need help, we just want to say goodbye.”

Mika clings onto Veronica like they’ve known each other their entire lives. “I’m going to miss you.”

“It’s not forever,” Veronica says, tears forming in the corners that Jughead holds back from wiping.

Sweet Pea looks at Jughead. Eyes saying a million things, verbally saying nothing at all. “You guys better come and visit,” Jughead says, pulling Sweet Pea in with a fight. Sweet Pea resists. Jughead holds his friend closer.

Sweet Pea bends down into Jughead’s ear. “If you need anything, you call me first, you hear?”

Jughead lets go and goes to hug Mika who holds his hand a little too tightly and hisses in his ear; “You hurt her, I kill you, Jones.”

* * *

 

The apartment is cold.

Bitch whispers in his mind,  _you should be giving her more than this._

Love unpacks their two bags and puts them in the drawer that was free that they got two weeks later as she dances in black lace around the room.

Love had also spent money on new sheets because she insisted they needed to sleep in actual bedding, her next investment was to be a duvet cover, she promises him. Jughead could never deny her the luxury. Instead, he’s almost convinced that they need the duvet just as much as she is. Black lace could never persuade him to follow his own mind. Black lace  _was_  his mind.

The bedroom was empty apart from the clothing in the free drawers. Their second-hand-dirty double mattress lived on the floor of their lounge room with the rug that came with the cheap apartment and the crates they had decorated and arranged to appear like a coffee table, Jughead watches Veronica as she’s happy-light footsteps in the lounge room, hips that were swollen swinging in front of him as soft yellows from the barely working TV danced on her skin, blues and greys slide in from the flickering lights of the outside coming in from the windows.  _She’s too perfect,_  the bitch reminds him.  _She’s my perfect,_ he reminds himself.

He crashes down with dark denim on his legs and nothing on the top onto the fresh sheets on the mattress and the blanket with no duvet. She’s dancing-to-no-tune kind of happy that makes Jughead so happy, he wouldn’t ever have a regret in his life.

Riverdale was close-to-three weeks in their past and aside from the smell of Sweetwater River in the Spring and chocolate shakes from Pop’s, he had almost forgotten it. Bitch brings Betty into Jughead’s mind as Veronica briefly reminds him of River Vixen days and the Blue and Gold where at 16, they stole a kiss that they had tried to lock away but never truly could. Betty’s sweet-blonde and bright-baby-blue eyes cloud him, but quickly, she was gone. If Riverdale was three weeks in the past, then Betty was two years. He wonders if when she moved to California, did she feel this too?

A freedom that let her breathe the same way he is right now in the apartment with the seventies-speckled-green kitchen countertop with the clashing yellow-hippy-vibe curtains hanging on windows that squeak when you open them.

At nineteen, his age felt fake. He felt old. Withered. Their apartment gave them a freedom that took the weight off their shoulders. Twenty wasn’t so bad after all.

Jughead gets off the slightly-too-hard mattress as Veronica stands in front of him, lace dipping in between her thighs that he already has saliva pooling for. He goes up behind his love, “Tell me how much you torture me, Princess,” he almost demands.

He kisses at the side of Veronica’s throat, tasting salty-sweet and him on her from last night. Veronica curves into him, forcing one of his rough hands down between her thighs, snagging on lace, feeling her softly and just the way she likes it. Love, love, love, he repeats as he licks at her neck. He sets his hands on her hips, denim and his zipper catching on the thin, black lace as he grinds to get a little closer, Veronica tilting her neck for him to bite down a little too-desperate kind of needy. “Tell me how much you love me,” she hums with a confidence that Jughead can’t ignore.

He wants to rip her lace. “Like a fucking  _drug_ ,” he prays.

Jughead knows he’s part of her. Inside of her. This home was the bones of their fucking love with the bathroom that was all types of sixties hypnotic with the basin that he had fucked her against as she told him just how much she loved him as she came. Even with his face buried in the crook of her neck and his eyes closed he can picture exactly how her eyes were rolling back as he continues to love her. She’s bite marks on her ribcage and in between her legs, she’s a level of softness that he’s only ever known from her when she comes to his name.

 _Veronica is my freedom_ , he begs to himself. She’s his freedom when they don’t ever have to hide again.

Jughead kisses her muscles and aching bones, swollen lips and torn skin.

Veronica grabs his wrist again, forcing it between her. “Please, love,” she begs him, putting his fingers under lace. “I need you,” she insists with his palm sitting on her soft stomach.

She’s wet and ready. Begging and needy. Tender and desperate. Her lips cling to his, Veronica’s teeth pulling on his swollen, lower lip making Jughead gasp. She loves it when she’s begging, he thinks. Jughead knows she loves it when she can still feel him long after they’re done. He can feel her begging in his heart, still feel her begging from last night and feels himself begging in his cock when he slips fingers in wet, sliding them over herself. She bucks against his hand with her tongue on his. _Love me_ , the bitch cries.

“I love you,” he promises Veronica.

She falls onto hands and knees onto the mattress where they spend every night watching reruns - she rolls onto her back, pitched up on elbows and watches Jughead fall between her legs, scratching at smooth calf muscles and giggling at light nips at her ankles. Black lace gets caught at the knees as he drags them down her core and they tear a little when he gets them off her feet, chucking lacey black over his shoulder.

She pretends to kick him, flat foot on bare chest but Jughead laughs, kissing her feet, not-close-enough kind of desperate. Denim snaps and rings as he pulls them off so quickly, his legs get a little tangled. He’s bare and she’s pushing fists into his chest as he centers himself.

Jughead rocks in a way that’s painful in his very being.

Veronica rides him from on top with her nails in his chest and his name spilling out of her mouth so many times, his own name seems foreign.

She lies in his arms and traces patterns on his Southside tattoo. “Are you scared?” she asks.

 _Am I scared_? He asks himself.  _I’m so scared of everything,_ he knows. Impulsive-too-quick ideas, bad-blood-draining dreams.  _What if I can’t give her anything?_ “I’m scared I can’t provide.”

“I’ll provide,” she insists. “You just make sure you keep loving me… how much do you love me?”

Jughead loves her so much that the last three weeks in their new world is the only time that matters. “Fuck the last three years, Princess,” he promises her. “What’s happening right now is the only thing that matters.”

“Then tell me why you’re scared.”

He wants to drown out heart-sinking-truths. “I don’t have a job, Love,” he says with closed eyes. “I don’t have money to give you.”

“Don’t talk about that,” she hums. “We’re okay. You’ll get there.”

“You shouldn’t have to worry about money,” he says but she puts an index finger to his lips.

“I’m not,” she says sternly, keeping him grounded. “You’re the one who’s worried. I’m okay at the coffee shop.”

“You shouldn’t have to work at a coffee shop -”

Veronica cuts off painful thoughts. “I worked at Pops for years, Jughead. Trust me, I’m okay.”

“God,” he says against her skin. “You’re torture.”

Heavy eyelashes beat loudly as she blinks and he can hear it. The softness of her hands was heavy on his stomach where she laid them. “You’re torturing me too, you know?” she whispers. “But being anywhere else without you would have been worse.”

“What kind of torture are you tonight, love?” he asks her on metaphorical hands and knees, scratching at shards of glass. “Love, tell me you love me,” he asks for the reminder.

“I love you,” she sighs back.

“Tell me you don’t regret me.”

She smiles with her eyes closed, it’s cold and damp in her smile but burning hot to the touch when she’s near him. “It doesn’t matter how fucked up we are, Jug. I’ll never regret any of this.”

He closes his eyes, prays to Veronica next to him. “Have we made it?”

“We’re so far gone, I don’t know the way back.”

He holds her in his arms. Closer than close, drowning deeper than deep. In this moment, it doesn’t matter how much it feels like Veronica is in the marrow of his fucked up bones, or that she’s the splitting gums in his mouth. How maybe it’s her blood in his bloodstream or how his mind isn’t his anymore, it’s his family’s. The one they made together in the cold apartment. He wouldn’t trade this moment for anything. He keeps agony in his soul, at least he has a broken reminder of the love he holds. And that’s all he’s ever wanted.

She’s sleepy-dewy-love in his arms.  _Ritual_ , he repeats. 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Show us love? Leave us comments? Love us?  
> To Aubrey, forever and always the best board maker in the game.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead’s voice is sleepy when he says; “You did. And now we can finally talk about forever without it being some kind of fucked up dream.”  
> “In these dreams, did we still share chocolate shakes?” she asks him.  
> “Everyday,” he replies. “Chocolate shakes.”  
> “And what else?”  
> “We share a bed, we share the same lame taste in decor, you wear my shirts around the house, we share the shitty fast food.”  
> “Sounds perfect.”  
> “It is… it will be. Sharing the same life. Jughead and Ronnie.”  
> “Maybe we’ll share kids too,” she says, just as sleepily.  
> Jughead chuckles. “And those too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give me love! Pre-NYC. A flashback, if you will.

_**Chapter Three** _

_Princess_

_Back Then_

* * *

 

 

His eyes squint as he smiles over his laptop that sits on a grease smeared table. “It wouldn’t kill you to smile back, Princess,” Jughead hums as his fingers rest on Veronica’s hip with one hand and his other hand on the chocolate shake she’s just handed him.

Veronica bites her lip out of habit and her eyes dart from the door of Pop’s back to the boy in front of her - another habit she’s been trying to break. _No one to hide from anymore,_ she remind herself. _No more hiding, no more hiding_ , she repeats.  Jughead’s fingers on her hips move her closer. “Forty more minutes,” she tells him. _Forty more minutes of torture,_ she thinks. “You didn’t need to come and wait for me,” she says in a hurry, shake spilling over the side of the glass.

“Forty minutes is the difference between me living and dying, Princess,” he says in a sigh, ghosting his fingers over the keyboard.

Veronica rolls her eyes. “You’re so fucking dramatic, Jones,” she says, bending over in front of him, yellow dress separating just enough to remind Jughead of what he’s dying for. “What are you writing about tonight, baby?” she asks quietly, avoiding gazes in their direction. She smears grease a little further in front of him.

Jughead reaches out to tilt Veronica’s head and brushes a kiss on her lips that she almost jerks away from. His eyes show concern when he says; “The love ballad of Jughead and Veronica, sounds romantic, doesn’t it?” he says, giving her a wink.

Veronica smirks as she straightens up. “Romantic? You’re full of it, you know that?”

Jughead shrugs as he grabs her hand, she pulls it out quick just to have him grab it again, placing it to his lips. “This reflex, you always pulling away, it needs to stop soon.We don’t have anything to hide.”

Veronica looks around. There were always eyes everywhere. No more Archie, no more Betty, no more hiding, she thinks. “We’re free, right, baby?” she says, sugary smile so fake on her lips.

Jughead’s eyes darken slightly. “As free as we’ll ever be in Riverdale, baby,” he reminds her. “But as long as we stay here, we’ll always have a level of torture.”

Archie hadn’t even been gone a week. But in her soul, he’d had been gone as long as Jughead had got into her veins. “I’ll see you in forty.”

“Thirty-eight.”

“Thirty-eight,” Veronica repeats with a smile.

Veronica turns around, tightening her apron. “Hey, Princess!” Jughead calls out.

“Hmmm?” she calls back from the counter.

“I love you!” echoes loudly through Pop’s, cutting through the noise.

It stops her in her tracks, she feels a blush creeping up her neck and everyone’s eyes on her.

She looks at Jughead who wears the smuggest smirk and fingers on his keyboard as he waits for her reply that couldn’t come out. _Not yet_ , she thinks. She couldn’t say it or it would run through the veins of their town that they now call a prison.

* * *

 

Time moves so slowly in Riverdale. Veronica’s ever growing frustration with the place was starting to get to her and in turn, Jughead too. He fingers a straw in his matching chocolate shake and rolls his eyes when Veronica takes a scoop of the whip cream off his shake and adds it to her own. “When is this going to stop?” he asks her.

She knows exactly what he’s talking about. The underlying layer of guilt that runs through her now that they’re together. She didn’t know exactly what she was hiding from but small towns bear small minds and the girl who managed to break down the great Hiram Lodge was never meant to end up with the King of Southside. There were unspoken rules that Veronica and Jughead managed to break, one by one. The love that she held for Betty burnt silently when Veronica let Jughead into her being. Southside wasn’t the worst thing in Riverdale when her father existed. Riverdale’s calling to her stopped when Jughead started promising her forever and their forever called them both to a different city; a different life. Whatever good that she had in her faded when the last three years of her and Jughead was based on hushed whispers and lies. So many lies.

Jughead waits on her answer. “It’s just kind of hard to be so open…”

“When we’re so used to being a secret?” he finishes, traces of malice in his tone. Veronica’s eyes darken as she runs her tongue over her teeth and holds back her own roll of her eyes. “You didn’t really think we were going to be like that forever, did you?”

 _Forever_ , she thinks, _I couldn’t think of forever when everything was so unsure_. “You had Betty, Jughead,” she says sternly. “And I had Archie and I didn’t know what was going to happen.”

She takes a frustrated sip of her shake and Jughead already hits the bottom of his own. “I knew what was going to happen, baby.”

“And what was that?”

Jughead smiles down at the table, running his hands over his knuckles as Southside sits proudly on his shoulders. “I knew that I love you, and you love me, I was going to give you the world…”

Veronica hangs on to his words. They were always so pretty, so charming. Whatever he said, she would hang on tightly. “Sometimes I hate you, do you know that?”

Jughead laughs and traces patterns on her arms. “No you don’t,” he says sweetly. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not lying.”

“I knew that we were going to be together, I don’t let you torture me like this for nothing, Princess,” he replies with his eyes darkening, jaw tensing in front of her.

“You think I torture you?”

“When you don’t let me love you, it’s torture…”

Veronica leans over the table, brushing her lips on his cheek. “I’ve always let you love me and now we’re lost in Riverdale,” she answers, leaving words on his skin.

Jughead smiles into her words, leaving his hands on hers. “Stop letting Riverdale stop you from loving me, Veronica.”

“I won’t,” she promises. “Can you just kiss me?”

“So I stop talking?” he asks, meeting her lips.

She bites at his lip. “You talk too much.”

* * *

 

It’s times like these when they barely speak.

He had a cockiness that couldn’t be touched when she was on his arm. Jughead was the King of Southside but Veronica knew that when she was with him, she just added to the hype. The Whyte Wyrm was kind of her god given right when she now officially one half of the biggest thing on Southside. It was a title she refused but she felt the eyes stinging her skin when she was held up on a metaphorical pedestal that he had made for everyone to notice her. He was a cocky boot slamming against the bar with his elbow on the counter as he batted lashes at Toni and says; “If anyone has anything to say about Veronica and I, they can bring it to me.”

Veronica can almost feel his fingers inside her with his teeth on her neck and his words telling her how much he loves it when she’s in control when she says; “Or they can come and see me, I bite a little harder than the last girlfriend and they don’t want my Louboutins on these snakes.”

Toni raises an eyebrow when she passes Veronica a drink. “Girlfriend, huh?” she teases. “So you’re saying it out loud now…”

Jughead sniggers when he keeps a hand on Veronica’s waist. Veronica has a string of words she wants to say but settles with. “Of course,” she answers.

Jughead’s breath in her ear says; “Wait until I get you home, Princess. I’ll show you how I treat my girlfriend.”

* * *

 

The conversation starts with; “ _When we move.._.” and Veronica can tell Jughead is shocked.

“You really want to move?”

“I really want to be everywhere with you, so yes.”

“You never talk about it.”

Egyptian cotton feels out of place in the trailer but the cover was one of the only things she bought with her from The Pembrooke. Jughead’s arm rests across her naked body and she pulls the sheets higher. “We _always_ talk about it.”

“It’s one of those things we agree on but we don’t ever plan.”

She can hear the annoyance lacing Jughead’s words and she kisses his arm as some small piece of comfort. “Well, we can now.”

Jughead shifts on the bed, rolling onto his side to look at Veronica whose hair is a little longer than usual and her lips a little swollen from over-kissing. “Do you really want to go?”

She wants to shout that she’s so far gone. _I left years ago_ , she remembers. “Jughead, I just want to feel normal.”

“I guess we’ve been looking for the right time, huh?”

There was no right time when every time felt wrong. _And how do you even tell someone you love that maybe you should take it to the next level when every stupid word out of each other's mouth was something sharp and painful?_ She wonders. “Our time has finally come, Jug. I’m sick of waiting for something to happen.”

“Why would you want to be with someone like me?” he asks, “When I'm nothing but a fuck up?”

Veronica pauses. Part of her wanting to smack him, he’s everything to her. “You’re not a fuck up.”

“The only thing right that I’ve ever done was find you, Veronica. Do you know that?”

Veronica breathes when he breathes and closes her eyes to steady herself. “The only thing that feels right to me, Jughead, is loving you.”

“We deserve to be happy.”

She thinks on his words, she’s always wondered the same thing. “I think so,” she says gently, tracing patterns on his skin. “Everyone deserves to be happy.”

Jughead sniggers softly. “And we do too, the only thing is that we thought we shouldn’t find happiness in each other.”

“Because we were kids, Jug.”

“ _Kids_ ,” he laughs. “We’ll move out of this shit town and start our own life. You and me, Princess, what do you say?”

Veronica closes her eyes again, smiling to the dark. “I say fuck it, let’s go. New York still calls me. Just like we’ve been saying since we were sixteen.”

“Sixteen,” Jughead says in a sigh. “Almost four years of promises.”

“Four years of pain,” Veronica corrects.

“Nah Princess,” he replies. “The only pain was knowing that there was a chance that you didn’t want to fight for this.”

“Well I did,” she argues.

Jughead’s voice is sleepy when he says; “You did. And now we can finally talk about forever without it being some kind of fucked up dream.”

“In these dreams, did we still share chocolate shakes?” she asks him.

“Everyday,” he replies. “Chocolate shakes.”

“And what else?”

“We share a bed, we share the same lame taste in decor, you wear my shirts around the house, we share the shitty fast food.”

“Sounds perfect.”

“It is… it _will_ be. Sharing the same life. Jughead and Ronnie.”

“Maybe we’ll share kids too,” she says, just as sleepily.

Jughead chuckles. “And those too.”

* * *

 

Shifts at Pop’s were always busy, and even through the loud clanging of plates and extra shifts on top of her usual shifts to try and save money made them not feel so long. Jughead would sit waiting for Veronica every day and when they got home to the trailer, each dollar saved was a dollar closer to New York.

Jughead would scrub coffee stained mugs when no one was looking to help her out. Folding napkins became his unofficial job and she would kiss his cheek every time he would turn up at midnight to help her clean tables. New York was closer and closer by the day.

“I want to get out of here,” she groans.

“New York, New York, baby.”

“Don’t bust into tune, please,” Veronica groans again.

Jughead laughs. “I don’t sing, you know that.”

“Oh,” she agrees, sniggering. “I know.”

She slides a chocolate shake across the counter to Jughead and he catches it without looking. “You’re amazing, Princess,” he hums with his mouth on the straw. “You’re the epitome of perfect.”

Southside screams loudly on his back and torn up knuckles tell her that he had been somewhere she didn’t care to know about. The less she knew, the less it hurt her. “Stop,” she says weakly but a smile on her faces tells Jughead that his pretty words are working.

He chews noisily on fries when he taps on his keyboard. “When do you finish tonight?”

“Another five hours,” she says with a sigh, turning on the coffee machine.

“Five coffees it is.”

“You want one now?”

“Soon,” he answers. “After my shake.”

She notices the splits in his knuckles a little more acutely as she wipes down the counter in front of him and he catches her eyes when she looks up. “Jug…”

“I’m just trying to get money too, Veronica,” he says, tensing his fists. “You do your work and I do mine.”

Veronica avoids further conversation. We’re going to get out, she repeats. We’ll be out soon, we’ll be gone. “Your work can’t carry on when we leave, Jughead,” she whispers. “You know that.”

Jughead closes his eyes and Veronica knows he’s looking for peace. “I do my work now so when we go, I don’t have to. But I have to get some money somehow, baby, you know that.”

Veronica reminds herself of the goal. Of New York. Of nothing more than just the two of them. “Don’t talk about money, Jug,” she tries to reassure but she knows it’s falling on deaf ears. “I told you.”

Jughead’s laugh holds no humour. “And what will I do when I get to New York?”

“Write!” she says instantly, not giving it a second thought. “And your photography that you do with Toni is stunning -”

“What if I can’t make money from that?”

Veronica sighs and rolls her eyes, hands sitting on her hips and Jughead’s smirk tells her that he knows that she’s starting to rise. “Well have you ever tried?”

“No.”

“Have you not been telling me to be brave? That we need to get out of our familiar? Is New York not the chance you’ve been trying to sell to me for the past year?”

Jughead’s eyes drop to the computer and his smile carries on when he starts typing. “God I love you.”

Veronica growls. “Don’t you change the subject on me, Jones.”

“Aggressive,” Jughead teases. “I like it.”

Veronica slams her palm on the counter in front of Jughead and her eyes grow. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. In all seriousness, your writing is fucking amazing and Toni told you herself that your photography is amazing too!”

“You don’t like to be challenged do you, Lodge?”

“Don’t _‘Lodge’_ me!”

“Right,” Jughead nods. “Soon-to-be-Jones.”

Veronica stops in her tracks, eyes peering into Jughead’s. Thrown off guard. “Don’t tease me.”

“I’m not teasing.”

“God!” Veronica groans again while stacking cups. “You annoy me so much.”

“Obviously not enough, or you wouldn’t be promising forever with me.”

Veronica nods when she puts shakes on a tray to carry to a table. She starts walking when she calls out; “Jughead?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you too,” she announces across Pop’s.

Jughead’s head turns with a smile so big, Veronica feels her face blushing.

No one else in Pop’s turns at all.

They were just another boy and girl in love.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forever and always, Aubrey.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He kicks off the top of the drawers and stands in front of her. His flannel hangs from gaunt hips and his shirt is discarded on the floor along with Southside. He’s bare, hat off, pride in the dirt where the new kid almost fell to pieces. “This is me, love!” he almost shouts, smacking his hand to his chest. “This is it! Me in the flesh! You know that, you’ve known that as long as we’ve known each other!” he calls. “Betty is draining me, I can’t keep doing this. I can’t without you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me love in the form of comments and I’ll love you like Veronica loves Jughead and Jughead loves chocolate shakes.

_**Chapter Four** _

_Torture_

_Back Then_

* * *

 

It’s two punches in a row, a heart-beat-moment, cracking-split knuckles. Jughead Jones hears the sipping of whiskey straight from the bottle, alcohol sloshing and the cheer from the crowd.

He flexes his fingers and the middle knuckle splits upon flexion. Four more slaps, the groan of Fangs to his right who’s glistening in a purple-soft-tinged sunset. Five more smacks and a cry of pride comes from Fangs, spit flying from is mouth when he cries out for the new kid.

The new kid who’s from Greendale and is trying to make a name for himself in Southside stands before him. Jughead centres himself.

This is it, he knows it. The one that will make or break the new kid. He can smell the fear in the air, and even behind the new kid’s bruised eyes, Jughead looks in them and he rolls his own when he notices tears.

Jughead rubs his split knuckles, cracks his hands back before spitting on the ground by his feet and kicking the dirt. “What’s the first law again?” Jughead drawls pulling back his fist.

The new kid stumbles from foot to foot; Jughead finds satisfaction in this;, he was sixteen only a couple years ago and he remembers the beaten-induced high and the adrenaline pulsating through his body, keeping him up. He’s got pride in the new kid; at least he’s still standing.

_As long as you’re still standing_ , Jughead knows, _you’ll be okay._

The new kid coughs blood onto the ground and wipes his mouth, he almost falls but his guts and passion keeps him up; Jughead remembers the feeling.

“You can do it, kid!” Fangs says, throwing his fist to the air. “Say it!” he calls to the newest serpent.

“A Serpent never shows cowardice,” he mumbles to his Leader.

Jughead nods and swings his right fist with the Southside ring on his index finger, and almost in slow motion, he sees the new kid’s jaw move inside his skin, purple hues on his bruised and bloodied face, teeth chattering against each other and Jughead’s fist makes it’s union, joints pushing back and tendons shaking.

Veronica’s heels sink into the earth as she makes her way across the grass, jacket in hand with the Snake glowing under set sun. She gives Jughead a wink as she drapes the new kid’s new jacket on his shoulders.

Jughead looks around at his club, Sweet Pea stands shoulder to shoulder with his own father; FP wears pride in his eyes and Sweet Pea’s half-filled bottle of whiskey is held in the air. Jughead knows he’s living up to the legacy, climbing mountains here in Southside.

Fangs carries the new kid on his shoulders back to the Whyte Wyrm, smile contrasted against his red right fist created by punching the new kid himself.

Veronica continues to sink with sharp heels on as she walks up to Jughead, inspecting his beat up hand with the too many scars and dislocated fingers. “You’re just like them,” she tells him, eyes shooting up to FP who was looking down on the newest members of their gang. “The bad part of Riverdale, huh?”

He sighs and looks down to the ground. “That was a hard one, Veronica,” he says out of breath. “I don’t know how many punches I could have thrown.”

“Will it ever get easier though?” she laughs. “You can stay here in the bad part of Riverdale or you could come and join us Lodges in the shady part of Riverdale, rub shoulders with the con artists,” she says with a wink. Jughead knows Veronica has her own demons, being her parents and their connection with the Serpents on the dirty business side of things.

He feels a sickness in his guts, a badness in his bones. Initiations were something his dad had promised would get easier but there’s been five now and they seem to get a little harder. “I’ll stay here,” he mumbles. “We better get inside before they start hunting down their Queen Serpent.”

Veronica laughs out loud and punches Jughead’s shoulder. “You’re the youngest King of Southside and already running the joint,” she says, trying to cheer him up. “But I’m not your Queen.”

“Hmm? I don’t believe that you’d let someone else wear that crown,” he sounds, checking out the state of his knuckles. “If not you, then who is it?”

She points to the entrance of the clubhouse, where Archie Andrews stands nursing a warm beer and looking a hell of a lot like he’s just seen a ghost, cheeks gaunt, eyes dark. “Don’t start, Jughead.” Veronica moves Jughead’s face to look at her. “Hey, you okay?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he lies, snatching a bottle of whiskey off the ground by his feet. “I just wish you were with me all the time.”

She sighs and pats his cheek as he takes a swig. “I wish we were together all the time too, Jug.”

He’s like a sinner searching for a baptism when he watches her walk away.

* * *

He watches her in the light of the club house. She still laughs like she’s part of everything that he is and Jughead can hear it acutely above every other noise in here. Above ACDC, above Smoke on the Water and Immigrant Song or Pink Floyd. He can hear her laugh and wonder why the fuck she’s laughing in the first place when she’s made it clear that she was here with Archie.  

He slams a glass on the counter-top which earns him a growl and scowl from Mika, “Sorry,” Jughead mutters. “Another whiskey.”

“Don’t give him another whiskey, Mika,” Archie argues. “He can come home and sleep it off with me.”

“I’m not sleeping with you, Arch,” Jughead groans, rubbing his temples and taking that fucking whiskey from Mika anyways.

“I’m not getting in between this,” Mika says, sauntering away.

Archie frowns and shakes his bottle of beer seriously. “You seemed okay not long ago, Juggie.”

He remembers Archie’s fingers on Veronica’s hip. “What?” Jughead snaps, “Is this a lovers quarrel or something?”

Archie shrugs. “Well I love you if that counts for anything…”

Jughead pauses and thinks on it. He loves his best friend, it’s been him, Archie, Betty and Veronica for a long time and he knows Archie’s love definitely counts for something. “Thanks.”

“What’s wrong?” Archie asks. “Initiating people into the Serpents starting to drain you?”

Jughead wants to tell his best friend the truth; he’s sucked dry, soul empty, fucking sick in the pit of his stomach and watching these guys faces contort in pain, almost begging for salvation has made him drip blood he shouldn’t have to lose. But this was the world he was born into, in the fucking snake pit. “Something like that?” he answers. But he wants to tell him that now that he’s almost in charge, initiations aren’t the worst thing he’s had to do.

He watches dark hair sway at the pool table, plump lips that smack together and then she bites them on the right side, a nervous twitch. He’s saved in the thought that Veronica hasn’t changed. “You’re looking for Betty, aren’t you?” Archie replies quietly. “I asked her why she wasn’t coming back here but-” Jughead cuts him off.

“But then you probably figured that she didn’t want to be part of this?” Jughead drawls. “But then I guess she’s never really been in with the Serpents, has she?”

Jughead regrets snapping at Archie, but he also knows that Archie’s kindness was his weakness and if there’s something that shouldn’t be given out freely around here’s, it’s kindness. Jughead knows what kindness gets you and it’s a bite in the neck. “Just because you guys are going through some stuff doesn’t mean anything, Jug. You’re still part of our family….” _A fucked up family_ , Jughead thinks.

Jughead respects Archie’s way of thinking, but Archie hasn’t been part of his zone in a long time. Brothers-turned-strangers is something that hangs on to the tip of Jughead’s tongue. “Speaking of family…” Jughead presses, changing the subject. “How’s your dad?”

Archie huffs as he notices Jughead’s change. “Happy because he gets me to do his book work…” Archie explains. “Legit work.”

“But yet you still have enough time to spare us people who aren’t so legit, what are you, a Robin Hood or something?”

“I don’t know what you mean…”

“I mean you’re offering we peasants your time, Arch, and that to me is a lot.”

Jughead feels Archie’s eyes on him and a sigh. He lights a cigarette and watches the ease of fluidity in front of him, the way Veronica still suits leather even if it doesn’t have a snake on the back, hoop earrings swinging when she throws her head back, the way her small hands smack Sweet Pea’s chest. “Go and see her, Jug. She hasn’t changed. She’s still Betty.”

Jughead inhales his cigarette, letting the stress wash out and flicks the ash in the ashtray. He knows she’s not the same Betty. And she hasn’t been for a long time. She hasn’t been since she decided she was too good for this place, _but maybe she is,_ he thinks. _Maybe she’s too good for this place,_ she was so much better than him. Because all he is, is a fucked up darkness who stays in his pit. He’s paid the price of Southside, and he thinks he might have paid the price in losing her too. He never lost her though, did he? The slow-steady-disconnect started when he knew they didn’t have anything in common. The way touches seem so light-as-air and foreign. It had been two years of descent.  “Have you seen Cheryl?” Jughead asks.

Archie shakes his head. “Nah, why?”

He wants to erase the sound of Veronica’s laugh above the music and the exact smell of her fucking hair.

Jughead takes another drink of his whiskey and stubs out his cigarette, blowing smoke right in Archie’s face, making him cough. “I just need to get out, maybe I could hang with Cheryl and T tonight.”

Archie cringes. “What about Betty?”

“You’re right,” he mumbles. “What about her?”

He knows he’s fucking disgusting. He’s always known. But the soul he’s searching for was the one who had pretended to be connected with his best friend for the last two years.

* * *

Cheryl brushed him off and decided she was too busy tonight so instead he had found himself in the back room of the Whyte Wyrm puffing a cloud of smoke from a blunt he had rolled; anything to make a quick escape.

He leans back on the wall as he sits on a chest of drawers and closes his eyes. “Still the same place as always, huh?”

The voice is acid-trip like when it rings through his ears and even though he can barely comprehend what she’s saying, missing every word, he takes another hit as he keeps the sound of her voice in his mind. “You found me, huh?” he sniggers. “Must have been super hard to find me in here,” he adds sarcastically,.

Veronica rolls her eyes and kicks her feet along the floor when she makes her way to the chest of drawers. She balances on her palms and lifts herself on top with a jump. He doesn’t want to, but he smells her, mint and menthols with minty-fresh chewing gum. Her hair brushes on his hand and he offers her the blunt which she takes from him. “Hey baby,” she says with a draw in. _Love_ _inhales_ _with_ _her_ _whole_ _heart_ , he knows.

She holds in the smoke and hands the blunt back, he laughs deeply to himself. “Archie lets you smoke?” he chuckles, knowing he doesn’t. “Oh Love, since when did you let anyone rule you?”

She shakes her head and lets go. “He doesn’t know I’m here,” she answers.

They sit in silence, two quiet minutes in which he feels like the moment is a prayer. He prays for a lot of things, Veronica included. Metaphorical hands and knees. Lost-love-touches.  “Why did you come back then?” he asks her.

He looks down at his hands, bloodied and bruised and giving the gift of Southside Serpents to the new kid. But he feels Veronica’s eyes on his hands too. “I missed you,” she whispers.

“Then come back to me?” he asks with a scoff. “It’s not hard.”

“It’s not hard?” she snaps, flicking the tops of his knuckles with sharp nails. “How can you say that? You’re out here smoking a blunt with a fucked up hand because you just joined up some poor kid, Jughead. Don’t tell me this isn’t fucking hard!”

She shakes a little next to him with her nails scratching the top of the wooden drawers but he ignores looking at her, he doesn’t have to.

He remembers the beauty of her, the smoothness of her skin, her nose, her swollen lips and the taste of them. The taste of her, the feeling of his tongue on her fucking skin. He remembers, but in his memory, she only tastes like poison and sadness. A drug. He needs another fucking hit. _Dark_ - _stolen_ - _love_ , he knows.

“It isn’t hard,” he argues feebly.

She laughs with malice laced in it. “It’s hard watching you like this when I know you could be more. But you’ve always taken the easy way out and this is it,” she says, raising her hands to the room. “Southside is fucked up and you and I are still right here in the thick of it.”

Veronica makes Jughead feel like she was a black-sunrise in his heart, harsh kisses, scratched back as she whispers sweet words. She’s a fucking punch to his jaw as she mentions Archie. She’s in his zone and that’s the only thing that keeps him here. Sporadic moments that they can share.  

Jughead’s nothing but dark blood. Split knuckles. But he’s everything he’s ever wished to be when Veronica is around.

He kicks off the top of the drawers and stands in front of her. His flannel hangs from gaunt hips and his shirt is discarded on the floor along with Southside. He’s bare, hat off, pride in the dirt where the new kid almost fell to pieces. “This is me, love!” he almost shouts, smacking his hand to his chest. “This is it! Me in the flesh! You know that, you’ve known that as long as we’ve known each other!” he calls. “Betty is draining me, I can’t keep doing this. I can’t without you!”

Veronica doesn’t flinch like other people may have. She doesn’t shed tears like Betty does when they talk. He almost thinks she’s going to spit at his feet but instead she stands up too, pride in her eyes, he can see it even when she doesn’t reach his shoulder. She looks up, fire-burnt irises. She doesn’t stand down to a snake, she especially doesn’t stand down to him. “I know who you are, Jughead,” she spits, “You don’t have to remind me!”

He groans in frustration, gripping on to his head, squeezing his eyes shut but he feels her hands on his face, smoothing over cheekbones. He falls straight into her, lips crashing on hers and she doesn’t fight, she lets him in with her tongue battling with his and her moan stopping only in his throat, he swallows it down as he shoves her jacket off her shoulders.

He sucks in the flesh of her neck, moves long hair to the side so he can bite down. Veronica unbuckles his belt and snaps it hard, letting the sound ring and ring through the room, she slams it against the wooden drawers, making Jughead flinch as he unclasps her bra.

Veronica’s hands are quick, letting Jughead’s denim fall to the ground and they get bunched up around his boots, but Jughead is starving; two souls starving. She rips her stockings down, moving her plaid skirt up around her hips, shirt ripped to the side but she’s ready.

He spins her around, locks wrists on the drawer in front of her with his hands handcuffing her. Her low pitched groan as he pumps and slides into her from behind sings familiar; a song that’s taken him higher than anything he’s ever taken before, he’s higher than high right now, but he’s home.

Jughead’s head falls back and heavy on his shoulders, he moves unceremoniously, without rhythm but almost as if they’re in tune. _Love_ _takes_ _me_ _with_ _my_ _whole_ _heart_ , he knows.

But at some point, he notices they’re in a dark, smoky room of the clubhouse with his denim jeans bunched on his legs and he’s sinking himself further into a girl who was definitely not his as a sweat bead rolls off his forehead. It’s messy, it’s stolen and the sound the drawer makes as it smacks against the wall and his wet skin slapping against her wet skin sounds desperate. She leans back to kiss him. His chest tighten, his throat needs clearing.

He hasn’t felt so good in three weeks since he last saw her and slammed her against the wall of her apartment.

He knows he’s not better than who he is inside. But he knows she doesn’t try to change him and that was something Betty couldn’t ever give him.

But if he’s fucked up then she’s still that everything that he wants to have forever.

He’s fucking trapped under her.

Jughead says Veronica’s name as he feels so fucking good inside her. He hates himself.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me love, babies. And this is where I leave love for my Aubs.  
> Next chapter, we’re back to present day NYC and in love.


	5. Chapter five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their kiss only stops when he inhales for air, both of their chests rising and falling while they stared at each other. Veronica’s face blushes up red hot, pushing aside her love for Jughead and noticing the sheer frustration she has in him. Her mind is at war with herself as she remembers their fight but Jughead leans in again, teeth dragging along her lips. “You have to be the most annoying person around sometimes…” he laughs against her jaw, leaving his tongue on her skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for following us on this journey, it’s long winded but we’ll get there.

**Chapter Five**

_ Princess _

_ Now _

* * *

A snap of the camera’s light is so bright in Veronica’s eyes that she almost drops Jughead’s coffee. “Jug!” she complains, “Stop!”

Jughead instead smiles as he takes the coffee from her. “I love it here,” he tells her. “Classier than working at Pop’s isn’t it… but the shakes aren’t as good.”

Veronica fakes annoyance, but her smile tells him otherwise. “I’ve been here fourteen months, Jug and you still say the same thing.”

“Because it’s the truth!” he says, putting down the coffee and grabbing his camera. Veronica slides into the booth of the Coffee Club whose chairs aren’t as comfortable as Pop’s either and smiles for Jughead’s camera. “You’re the most beautiful woman on this earth, have I ever told you that?”

Veronica blushes. “You tell me everyday.”

“Let me take one more of you,” he says, snapping her again. He turns to his laptop and shuts the screen.

Veronica eyes his laptop, “Are you writing something for the magazine?” she asks.

“You know me, Princess, that indie paper ain’t gonna write itself…”

“You put so many hours into it, Jug,” she says quietly. “Maybe you shouldn’t work at the bar, between the magazine and -”

“It’s only the magazine and the bar that I’ve got, baby…”

“Well, what about your photography?”

Jughead falls silent and takes a sip of his coffee, drawing it out. “I’m not any good at it anyways,” he laughs nervously, “Toni didn’t really teach me the tricks of the trade.”

Veronica shakes her head, _he’s_ _always_ _so_ _unsure_ _of_ _himself_ , she thinks. “I’ve been talking to someone anyways,” she tries to say nonchalantly but the look on his face was exactly as she had imagined.

“I imagine you talk to a lot of people during the day.”

“Classic Jones reply.”

“Who is it then?” he says, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

“Well,” Veronica starts, “You don’t just meet anyone over on the Upper East Side,” she says with a shrug.  Nick Haramis from Interview magazine comes here every day and he let it drop that they need someone for their magazine not only to write, but for photography as well….”

Veronica reads Jughead’s face well before he even chooses an expression to wear. She expected the very reaction. He laughs, “As if I could ever write for him, V,” he says, rolling his eyes. “There’s no way I would ever be good enough.”

Veronica groans out loud and slams her palm on the table. “He’s actually amazing, Jughead, and I think that at the very least, you could meet him.”

“No one wants to meet some kid from the Southside of Riverdale, V, trust me.”

“Why don’t you trust me instead?”

Jughead slinks further down his chair. “I trust you more than anyone else in the world.”

“Well, you’re not giving me a chance, are you?”

“Don’t say that…”

Veronica shakes her head again, frustration growing. “Listen to me. He’s a great guy and I truly believe, deep down, that you’d love him.”

Jughead closes his eyes and rubs his temples. “We barely make ends meet as it is, baby,” he adds quietly. “I don’t want to take a risk…”

“We barely make ends meet,” Veronica agrees. “But we do, isn’t that the main thing?”

“Veronica…” he moans.

“Jughead…” she moans back in the exact same tone. “Why won’t you do this one thing for me?”

Jughead stays quiet, keeping his eyes closed and moving further down the booth. “You know I’d do anything for you, but let me just think on this one.”

Veronica claps her hands together and stands up, leaning over the table to kiss him. “I know you can’t say no to me.”

* * *

Three in the morning is noisier for Veronica than most people, she knows that.

Like clockwork, she hears Jughead’s keys hit the table. Two Docs hit the ground one after the other and the sound of his Zippo light his cigarette is almost a comfort for her. _Home_ , she thinks, _home_ , _home_ , _home_.

She moves over on the lopsided bed, the one they have only just moved into the bedroom after close to a year of sleeping on the floor in the living room of their apartment. Finally, her shoulders ease and her heart slows, just enough for things to feel right again.

Jughead’s night job takes it out of him. His day job makes him happier than she’s ever seen him. She begs that he gives up the night job but it’s a fight not worth having when he’s humming kisses on her cheek. The thought he was supposed to have on the offer from Nick at Interview magazine dragged on for weeks and he never did share with her what he wanted to do, even with all her nagging.

Their bedroom door shuts behind him as he walks in, she can make out the patterns of his menthol cigarette through the stream of light coming in through the curtains that don’t quite meet. “Jug,” she says in a tired haze.

Jughead throws his beanie on the bedside table next to Veronica, bending down to kiss her on the forehead. “Princess,” he whispers against her hair. “I missed you.”

“How much?” she replies; _clockwork_.

Clockwork starts again. “So much, I couldn’t _breathe_.”

 _Ritual_ , she thinks as Jughead pulls off his shirt that smells too much like split vodka - cosmos. Ritual continues when he unbuckles his belt, slides off denim from his legs and sits on the edge of the bed. “You’re tired,” she reminds him. She always has to.

Jughead laughs but there’s a level of malice that rings through it. “Nothing a coffee and a cigarette can’t fix.”

Veronica sighs to herself and rubs her eyes. “You don’t have to work the bar at night, Jughead,” she forces. _Ritual_. “The magazine is enough in the day, you don’t need to work another job. And if you don’t want to meet with Nick, then we’ll figure something out.”

A clockwork exhale escapes his lips as he throws himself down on the pillow a little harder than usual. Veronica counts down minutes of sleep. If he falls asleep in the next thirty minutes, he’ll get three hours sleep…. “Money,” he says with as little poison as he can manage, Veronica knows this.

Veronica’s frustration grows and she feels it in the stinging of her jaw, in the back of her head, rising through her finger tips. _Money_ , she repeats, _I_ _don’t_ _fucking_ _care_ _about_ _it_. “Have you ever stopped to think about what means more to me, money? Or you?”

She knows that Jughead knows he’s stepped too far into it. He grabs at her hand that she pulls out of his and he searches for kisses on her jaw that turns away. “I just want to give you everything you’ve ever wanted,” he begs.

Veronica’s temples feel like they’re on the brink of bursting light brown bourbon stuck on his skin and she knows just how much Jughead hates brown spirits - an ugly childhood reminder. “When have I ever told you that what I wanted was money, Jughead?”

“Jughead,” he ghosts, obviously feeling the weight of his name in her mouth. “I know, princess I just -”

Veronica cuts him off with her hand on his mouth, “Don’t fucking talk.”

“I’ve made you angry…”

“You’ve made me wild,” she corrects.

They sit in silence. Ritual.

Beats pass. Jughead doesn’t rest, _but_ _neither_ _do_ _I_ , she reminds herself. Jughead’s obsession with providing was eating her alive because when will he see that all she ever wanted was him? New York called to them both because freedom was something that Riverdale wasn’t going to give them easily. Fourteen months shackled them to the same conversation that they constantly have as part of their ritual.

“I just wanted you to do one thing for me that would be the best thing you’ve ever done. Imagine working one job that you really could put all of your talents into… that’s what you could have, you’re wasting your time doing the bar…”

“I’m not good enough -”

“You _are_ good enough!”

“I just want to give you everything you deserve, Veronica,” he says quietly, her name ringing in Veronica’s ears. “I promised you everything, you deserve everything. Sometimes I wonder if things would be easier for you if you weren’t with someone like me….”

 _Someone_ _like_ _me_ , she repeats in her mind. _What_ _if_ _you_ _deserve_ _someone_ _who’s_ _not_ _me_? She wonders. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Someone not from the Southside. Someone who could give you more.”

“Don’t be stupid,” she hisses, “We didn’t go through four years of fighting for you to say that to me.” Veronica zones out, not wanting to hear it. _Fuck_ _the_ _ritual_ , she thinks. “I just want you to be happy, Jughead. I want you to do something you love instead of staying out all night where you’re not happy.”

“Veronica…” he hums.

“Please, Jug,” she begs. “Just stop.”

“I love you.”

She wonders if maybe she’s just too much. Then, she wonders nothing at all.  

“I love you too.”

* * *

Jughead is in the kitchen when she gets home from her shift at the Coffee Club. Even the smug smile he gives her seems to irritate her because it was so Jughead to just ignore everything.

She drops her handbag on the floor next to the counter when she’s met with a; “How was your day, baby?”

She greets him back with a; “Fine.”

Jughead sniggers to himself as he stirs his coffee. “So, we’re not talking, huh?”

Veronica feels like rolling her eyes but she doesn’t, instead she snatches the instant out of Jughead’s hands that was quite clearly made for him. Straight black. She sips it loudly and he knows she hates it but he shrugs his shoulders instead. _If_ _he_ _wants_ _to_ _play_ , she muses, _I’ll_ _play_ _too_.

Veronica sips on bitter coffee as she thinks about the scene unfolding in front of her. She remembers that it’s been four years of constant ignoration. Why tackle things right in front of you when you can live in ignorant bliss? _It’s_ _always_ _like_ _this_ , she thinks, _ignore_ _our_ _feelings_ , _ignore_ _the_ _pain_ , _ignore_ _the_ _struggle_. _Run_ _away_. Usually, it’s easily remedied. Veronica can ignore Jughead’s reasons behind working constantly by settling. But the same conversation, words only varied slightly, become draining.

“I don’t like not talking to you, Veronica,” Jughead says sternly.

“Well,” she says, sighing loudly. “I don’t like it when you don’t listen to me.”

“I always listen to you,” he replies bluntly.

She rolls her eyes. “Not when it matters.”

Jughead’s entitled scoff makes Veronica stand straighter and taller. “Really?”

“Really!” she snaps, “Your fear of putting yourself out there is draining me! Your photography is fucking amazing, your writing? More so and still, you won’t listen to me!”

“You don’t give up, do you?” he says gently but Veronica is already shaking.

“If I gave up, do you think we would be together?”

The silence rings louder than it ever had before. Jughead’s bones click when he presses his fist against his palm and his eyebrows rise. “You’re unbearable sometimes, do you know that?”

“Yes!” Veronica replies, standing her ground. “Sometimes I have to be!”

Jughead groans and rubs his face, taking a steadying breath. “You’re the only one with the problem, Veronica.”

“I have a problem with your reasons behind not putting yourself out there, aren’t you always hounding me to be brave? To take a chance? To live the life I want to?” she groans. “Yet, you love writing and you love photography and you won’t even for a moment allow yourself to be happy!”

“I’m happy when you’re happy -”

“And you shouldn’t place all your happiness in me, Jughead!” she says, wishing tears away. “Because I love you enough to know that things may be tough but as long as you’re doing something you love, we’ll be okay!”

“Veron -” Jughead is cut off when Veronica shoves the coffee to the side, kissing him hard. Unsure of whether she wants to shut him up or just be closer to him.

Jughead groans, moving his hands slowly to her hips and digging his fingers into the band of her skirt. He pushes her against the counter-top, switching positions and digging his hips into her. Her speed being matched by his.  
  
Their kiss only stops when he inhales for air, both of their chests rising and falling while they stared at each other. Veronica’s face blushes up red hot, pushing aside her love for Jughead and noticing the sheer frustration she has in him. Her mind is at war with herself as she remembers their fight but Jughead leans in again, teeth dragging along her lips. “You have to be the most annoying person around sometimes…” he laughs against her jaw, leaving his tongue on her skin.  
  
Veronica sniggers, her eyes roll back as Jughead bites down on her sensitive skin, feeling the edges of his nails snag on the lace bra she’s wearing when he creeps up her plain black shirt. She slides his belt out of the loops and says; “And sometimes you’re just an asshole who needs to listen.”

“So you keep telling me,” he breathes on her collarbone.

Jughead throws his belt on the ground when she hands it to him and instantly he goes back to her skirt, shoving it down her legs and holds her hand as she steps out of it. Veronica’s head rolls back as Jughead slips his fingers into her lace, long fingers find their spot almost instantly, as they always do. Veronica’s thighs tense around his hand and his cocky smile almost annoys Veronica when she begs him for more. The vibe they’re riding shifts slightly, anger dispersing with every thrust of his fingers and tight grip from Veronica in Jughead’s hair. “Fuck, Jug…”

“Tell me you love me,” he says with his lip between his teeth, fingers deep in her and palm slapping against her skin.

Veronica holds on to the truth that she loves him so much, she doesn’t know what to do. But as soon as her jaw drops from the feeling of his fingers inside her, he takes them out. A whimper escapes her but she takes to Jughead’s denim with quick hands, shoving them down. Before he gets up, Veronica is down by him, kissing at his jaw. She gets to his neck and bites down hard.

Jughead jerks back from the pain and Veronica smiles to herself, leaning against the counter with Jughead’s glare on her body. Quickly, he spins her around by the hips, slamming her hands in his against the counter and then coming back to slap her on the ass, leaving his hand there. He doesn’t even take her panties off before shoving them to the side, using his foot to tap against her feet to spread wide. He uses one hand to keep her panties to the side, he uses his other hand to guide himself into her. Veronica pushes her ass back, letting him completely inside her. Her thighs feel weak as he’s slow at first. She pushes back harder, faster. Closing her eyes just to feel him all in her.  
  
Veronica knows that tenderness isn’t their game and the harder he slaps against her, the louder their skin hits, over and over, stronger and stronger, the more she clings on. His hips slam into her ass and she smiles to the kitchen counter when her the nails of her right back reach behind her to grasp onto Jughead’s thigh. “Fuck me,” she orders.

Jughead grunts and steadies himself with one hand next to her, she grinds into him, taking control. Jughead leans over, pulling Veronica in and kisses her, pulling at her lip as she smiles against him. He pulls out only for a moment that Veronica frowns at but he meets her with soft kisses, a smirk on his lips as they meet her over and over again. He turns her around, placing her against the counter-top to face him. Veronica laughs before Jughead slides himself back into her, making her lose her breath.

Veronica’s hands smooth over Jughead’s skin, shoulder blades that tense with every movement, his stomach that sucks in and around to his back, digging her nails deeper into him. A groan comes from within him when she tugs at his hair as he fucks her.  
  
She taunts him, begging for him to go harder. “More,” she cries. “Harder, Jug.”

The anger still hangs in the air around them. The atmosphere breathes as it pulses the anger and it’s felt with every scratch on Jughead’s skin. She loves it like this. Veronica clings on to the control that she carries, pulling him closer, making him weak. Pulling at his hair and she watches his head move back and forth with her hand. She feels full when he fills her with everything that he has, kissing her on her neck in a way that makes the tight knot slowly release in her. He’s part of everything that she is when he’s so close, she doesn’t ever want to be apart. Veronica watches Jughead’s jaw tighten as soft moans leave her mouth. She begs without words, she grits her teeth at the same time Jughead does when he looks her in the eye. “Tell me you love me, baby,” he demands, eyes darkening.

Veronica pulls herself up, burying her face in Jughead’s chest before leaving her tongue back on her skin, losing a loosening scream on his chest. She loses all control when the steady part of her mind blanks and he thrusts harder, deeper, stronger into her when she lets go around him. “I love you, baby,” she gasps. At that point, he lets go inside of her, gasping for air as he comes.

He keeps them both up as he slams his hand onto the counter-top, body convulsing on top of Veronica and her thighs lose strength, letting her hold him. He kisses on her neck and Veronica runs kind hands up and down his shoulders, moving Jughead away to kiss him, twenty dotted kisses on his skin.

Jughead slips out carefully and Veronica places her feet back on the ground. She reaches up to cup his cheek and kisses him softly again on the lips. Whatever had happened before slowly washes away and Veronica feels a slight ease in her heart, but her mind still runs wild. As usual, she doesn’t want to take back anything she’s said, or forget anything she’s asking. But for now, she’s pressing pause.

She doesn’t protest when Jughead starts talk of his day at the indie paper and how fulfilling the day was. They make their way to their bedroom where they talk about the regular customers at her coffee shop.

She was calm, but not sated.  
  
The bed is warm when Jughead isn’t working nights. “Princess,” he says almost in sleep. “I made a promise to you.”

“You always do.”

“And I never break them, you know that.”

Veronica rolls on her side, reaching out to stroke Jughead’s face, lingering on his jaw line. “I know.”

“I told you I’d think about talking to Nick over at Interview and I have.”

“And?” she asks, heart racing.

“I’ll talk to him.”

Veronica smiles to herself, an entitled rush pushes through her. “I knew you would.”

Jughead chuckles in her arms. “I mean, this is forever kinda shit, isn’t it?” he asks. “We can’t keep doing this forever and I guess I have to think about the future.”

“What do you see in our future to make you change your mind?”

He shrugs next to her. “You and I, definitely. Fuck Riverdale, we can’t go back.”

“Agreed.”

“Me writing for a magazine that’s bigger than my dreams. More than our beat up apartment. Kids and shit. Coffee in the middle of the night with you. Your laugh is so loud…”

Veronica starts drifting. “Don’t knock our apartment, I could stay here forever.”

“Remember when we first fell in love?”

Veronica remembers it clearly. She was so lost. Pop’s was her only salvation. Midnight chocolate shakes over Jughead’s soft murmur at seventeen years old grounded her in a way that she would never forget. “You told me that sometimes it was draining always trying to be good.”

“Yeah, and you understood that,” he says with sleep in his voice. “You told me sometimes you don’t have to be good to be right…” he laughs lightly. “Classic Veronica.”

“I love you, Jughead,” she promises.

 _I_ _love_ _you_ _so_ _much_ , she thinks, _I_ _can_ _barely_ _breathe_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aubrey, my muse. I thank you.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He watches when she runs her hands over her stomach then stretches high into the air, he takes a steadying breath - just like he always does when it’s chocolate shake date with Veronica. She slides onto the bed next to him, a smile on his cheek, her forceful hand on his when she places his on her body, forcing it to run up and down her thigh. Jughead summons every bit of restraint he has to not fall straight into her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We love you all for your support, love, kudos, comments. We love you as much as Jughead loves Veronica.

**Chapter Six**

_ Serpent King _

_ Back Then _

* * *

The shake took all of two minutes to drink before Jughead was being shoved against the wall of The Pembrooke. It was a very rare sometimes that she let him enjoy the full experience at Pop’s. Being allowed to enjoy the full experience of sharing a shake with Veronica at Pop’s made Jughead feel as though there was some sense of normality in what they were doing. Something he would never dare tell her. Most times, it’s a rushed takeaway cup with a sinking cherry and melted cream on top. Jughead didn’t even have time to come up with words to tell her that sometimes he wants a little _more_ before he had to discard the takeaway cup and being shoved against the wall.

“Veronica,” he says between kisses, “Someone might hear - your mom…”

But she shushes him immediately, frustration ringing in the air as she bites down on his lip as punishment. “She doesn’t care, Jug,” she says with a sigh, hands tugging at his belt without undoing it. “ _I_ don’t care,” she corrects.

Jughead’s fumbling fingers get caught on her blouse and he misses buttons, breathe stopping while he bites done wn on his lip with concentration but he sees Veronica roll her eyes and the sheer act of her rolling her eyes makes his heart stop in its tracks. She swats his hands away, pushing at the shoulders of his Southside Serpents jacket and he can tell that she notices he’s trying his best to keep off the walls so she moves him, nails digging into his jeans when she pushes him onto the bed and stands between his separated legs.

Jughead tries to help her as she reaches to pull her blouse off and he edges his fingers into the start of her skirt. She smiles but she hisses; “Leave it.”

He watches when she runs her hands over her stomach then stretches high into the air, he takes a steadying breath - just like he always does when it’s chocolate shake date with Veronica. She slides onto the bed next to him, a smile on his cheek, her forceful hand on his when she places his on her body, forcing it to run up and down her thigh. Jughead summons every bit of restraint he has to not fall straight into her.

It’s three loud rings in a row that made Veronica say sternly; “Don’t answer,” with her hands on Jughead’s chest.

He smiles and chuckles lightly, pushing her carefully to the side and placing a kiss on her lips quickly - as compensation. “I know you don’t like interruptions,” he says quickly, almost in apology. “But it could be…” he couldn’t think of a lie she would even believe. Instead, the lie was replaced with the sound of her impatience.

He sits at the edge of the bed and pulls his phone out of his jacket pocket. _Archie_. “Archie wants to know if Betty and I want to go to Pop’s with you and him tonight…” Jughead closes his eyes and feels his stomach sitting in his throat.

“Well, do you?” she asks.

“I guess I’ll ask Betty when I get home.”   
  
She lies back with lace still covering her but she doesn’t meet his eyes. Jughead reminds himself, ‘ _this_ _was_ _the_ _agreement_ ,’ he repeats it in his mind.

She was playing hard to get and it made Jughead smirk. It wasn’t often that he got the upper hand and as stupid as it made him feel, he knows just how to fix things when Veronica feels out of control. He crawls back on the bed, between her legs, dotting kisses on her ankles and tongue resting on her skin. She allows him in, he knows, from the way she spreads a little wider and her lips turn up in a slight smile.

Veronica relaxes back into the bed and Jughead copies, laying his body on hers. Mostly he likes to feel close to her, but he knows exactly how much it makes Veronica squirm. It only took one kiss on her neck for her to start pushing against him, hips digging into his but that was short lived when she pushes him off her and straddles him, digging her nails back into his chest. Power shifts.   
  
She continues grinding on him, Jughead watches her entire body move against him, curves rippling and her hair draping down her back. He wants to get up to taste her, kiss her skin, bite it. She loses breath when she decides to tell him; “I want you on top again.”  
  
Jughead can’t hide his smile when he moves her. Veronica is rarely not in control and Jughead is used to it, a moment with her skin on his is enough for him to give up what little control he has no matter how much Veronica rules him. But he rolls her off again and press his body on hers with his tongue on her collarbone.

Whenever they’re like this, Jughead is almost convinced that maybe they were meant for each other. There has to be a reason why it always feels so perfect with her. But in the back of his mind afterwards, he remembers that it would never happen. As he kisses at Veronica’s jaw, he convinces himself.

 _We’re_ _perfect_ , he thinks.

Veronica lifts her hips and digs into his back harder and deeper, as if she needed him just as much as he confesses everyday. Sweet kisses she returned are being replaced with desperation, she closes her eyes when he grabs onto her hips and slips in, gently at first.

 _Pounding_ in the next second.

 _Not_ _long_ , he thinks, _this_ _won’t_ _take_ _long_.

It never does, not with her. Not with her skin on his and her eyes locked with his telling him that maybe, one day, things would be different. He reads too much into her eyes, he couldn’t help it.

It was only moments later when he came spilling into her with legs locked around him. Every time was as good as the first time and he held onto her lip with his teeth and he pumped harder at first, softer and slower in the end. He stayed in her, lips tasting the sweat on her neck and this morning’s perfume. Loving her even more.   
  
“Move,” she says, slapping him on the shoulder. Jughead does as he’s told and rolls off her, stretching out and looking at her off-white ceiling. He hears the tap running next door and the muffled sound of running water is ritualistic and something he’d have to wait another five days for. He smiles to the sound, enjoying it while it lasts.

He closes his eyes in search of rest that he never has. His moments of peace come from the sporadic visits to The Pembrooke when she lets him in for longer than an hour. She walks back into her bedroom, same lacey bra covering her but as he watches her move like fluid, he wants her again.

 _I_ _want_ _her_ _all_ _the_ _time_.

Jughead hates himself a little more than usual. If _he_ had her, Archie wouldn’t. Archie is his best friend, and Veronica loves him.

She was always clear about that.

This wasn’t about love or people. It was physical, Jughead was told over and over.

Jughead jerks his head to the otherside of the bed for Veronica to join him but instead she beelines for his jacket and pulls out his packet of menthols. “Cigarette?” she offers Jughead his own packet when she sits down next to him.

He tugs on the strap of her bra, trying to edge her closer. “How about a cuddle first?”

Veronica laughs and looks at him. “We don’t cuddle, Jug.”

“Well maybe we should,” he mumbles.

She gets off the bed and heads to her windows, opening them all and grabbing his lighter off her desk, lighting up. Veronica doesn’t smoke, but she does after sex and it makes him wonder if maybe she does when Archie’s around too.

She exhales slowly and drawn out, blowing plumes straight out the window. Jughead rolls off the bed, pulling denim straight up and makes his way to Veronica, wrapping his arms around her waist and actually feeling her ease into his hold. He kisses her shoulders quickly before taking the cigarettes and stepping back from her, placing a stick between his own lips.   
  
He sparks up, heart slowing down finally. “Why are you in a mood?”

Veronica doesn’t turn around to look at him, another cloud escapes her but this time, hurried and laced with annoyance. She shrugs; “I just know that Betty has been staying with you.”

Jughead exhales loudly. “She’s my girlfriend, V.” This time, she meets his eyes. “What?” he snaps, a little too loudly. “What am I supposed to do? Sit there while you and Archie plan your big move where the two of you are leaving me behind and never spend time with Betty?”

Veronica’s look is slightly defeated, though she tries to keep it cool, pursing her lips. She reaches for Jughead’s jeans and pulls him close and he knows it’s to reign back in her control. “You could wait until… I don’t know. Until I move.”  
  
Confusion runs through Jughead. She had never voiced anything like this before. If the idea of him being with Betty threw her, she didn’t have the right to feel that way. Not when she is just as much to blame as he is. But it made Jughead think as he watches her stare out the window that maybe she has feelings for him too.

“I don’t want to not be with you, V.”

She pauses before spinning on the balls of her feet. “But you don’t not want to be with Betty either…”

The silence is deafening when all Jughead can hear is the crackling of their cigarettes. Jughead bites his tongue, but it’s hard to listen to what Veronica is saying when he had begged Veronica to be with him. But mostly, he would never be good enough for her and he settles for the least painful path.

Sporadic moments that he counts down the days to.

She throws her cigarette out the window that Jughead reads it as her being done with the conversation. But he knows her well enough to know that a change in subject would be what she needs. The five days in between visits are long when they don’t talk. And they’re even longer without her messages of how much she needs him.

He throws out his own cigarette and attempts to spray from a fancy bottle of perfume on her dresser which she just laughs at. “My mom probably smells it anyway,” she shrugs.

“Your mom won’t come and say something?”

“My mom knows that every few days not to come in.”

Jughead feels his chest blushing up hot, biting his lip he says; “Does she know what we do?”

“I don’t think she cares,” she says, hiding amusement. With her hidden smile, Jughead leans over to kiss it. “She wants me to be happy, you know, all that sentimental stuff.”

Jughead swallows down another kiss, not wanting to give too much of himself away but the idea that Hermione Lodge thinks he makes her daughter happy wasn’t something he was going to forget. But he thinks briefly on his best friend that was the boyfriend of the girl he was really, fucking in love with and wonders what Archie makes Veronica feel. Does he make her happy too?  
  
“What about Archie?”

Veronica sighs while she traces patterns on Jughead’s stomach, reaching up to trace more on his shoulders. “Archie’s not the King of Southside. He’s safe and secure and…” she trails off.

“And what?” he asks.

She licks his jaw before nipping him. “He’s what I need,” she admits, snaking her arms around his waist and bringing him in closer, lips copying the scars on his chest.

“Sometimes you gotta choose between what you think you need and what you really need, Princess,” he says, fighting a losing battle. He can’t even count how many times they’ve fought this same fight.

“He’s what I need and you’re what I want but I need to set up my life, Jughead. A legit life.”

Jughead’s voice is shaky when he says; “I’m trying to get out of that life too, you know…”

Her fingers work on the buttons of his jeans, making Jughead’s stomach suck in. “You’re so cute sometimes, Jug.” The belt snaps when she pulls it out of the loops and his heart starts racing at the thought of being in her again. “I’ll miss it.”

She almost whispered the words and it made Jughead feel heavy but she leads him back to the bed, pushing him back down; pulling his jeans back off all over again. She seems quiet after her confession of missing him so Jughead touches her gently, runs fingers up and down her body, moving lace over her hips and down her legs before running his hand between her, soft, smooth skin.

When he’s in control like this, she usually hates it - _vulnerability_. For once, she was ease and serenity when he looks her in the eye, even letting him kiss her gently. Letting her forget for a moment.   
  
It didn’t take long for her sighs to become louder, her legs tensing and relaxing at the same time. He bit at her neck and licked the same spots, rubbing her faster and faster as she begged him for more. Her knees clench around his hand and he tastes her sweat while she melts away.   
  
He goes down to kiss her thighs, kisses on both sides of her hips, back to her neck. Five days was too long.

“I deserve a cuddle now,” Jughead says against her temple.

She rolls on her side, letting him fit in behind her. “I guess you do.”

“Veronica,” he says, eyes closed and peaceful with her in his arms. “I’d change my whole world if it meant you’d be with me.”  
  
She rolls to face him, tapping his shoulder for him to open his eyes. “I know,” she says against his lips. “But no one should have to change for me.”

Veronica grabs Jughead’s hand and places it between her again. _Just_ _another_ _distraction_ , he thinks. “Another chocolate shake date on Thursday, right?” she asks.

“No,” he mumbles.

“Good, I’ll see you at three.”

He knows she will. 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Leave us love? We'll love you as much as Jughead loves to sink his fingers into Veronica's skin.


End file.
